


Black Panties

by ThornFromARose



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornFromARose/pseuds/ThornFromARose
Summary: There are some things you can't change; and he'd always assumed hating Katniss Everdeen would be one of them. Little did he know that all it would take to change his mind was some little black panties....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'd written this for Valentines day - but completely forgot to post it (sigh)! I hope you won't judge me too harshly, as I try to write something a bit more risque...
> 
> xo

He kept rubbing in quick circles, listening to her small sighs and moans build. He couldn’t believe it; his hands were in Katniss Everdeen’s panties. Katniss Everdeen, the ice queen or as she became known throughout medical school, the prude! They’d been sworn enemies since like forever, but right now all that tension had boiled into something else. Something darker, lustier, and erotic in the sense that they really shouldn’t be doing this. But somehow, for some strange reason beyond all knowledge, it made him hard. Harder than he could ever remember being in his life. Seeing her lush lips twisting; turning; and pulling at themselves; as his thick fingers stroked her wet heat to completion. 

He keeps his thumb on her clit, applying a bit more pressure and almost laughs as he watches her keen towards him. His index finger strokes down her slit, revelling in the way the lips seem swollen to his touch. Although he wants to kiss her, to fully dominate her in this moment, he doesn’t want to lose focus. Not when he can feel the heat coming from her centre, drawing him in like a siren’s call. He eases his index finger in, retracting and pushing further until he goes beyond his knuckle. As he pulls out again, he adds a second finger, earning a long drawn out moan from her. Taking his time, he finger fucks her slowly, loving the way her walls clench around him every time. His exhales are coming just as ragged as hers when he picks up speed, his hips making shallow thrusts to mimic the pattern, and give him just a bit of relief. As he plunges into her deeper and deeper, and as feels her throbs getting closer together he hooks his fingers, sighing when he feels her spongy ridges. The sound she made as she comes is enough to cause him to almost ejaculate. Almost. As he focuses on his breathing for a moment to prevent him going over the edge. It was crazy, she hadn’t even touched him and he could feel that telltale burning sensation in his balls. He slows his breathing down and thinks of any unsexy thought he can to prevent him from falling over the edge. 

As he settles down, he watches her breath through her orgasm, and can almost hear the tension working its way out of her body. The same time this happens, he thinks back on the argument that caused her to chase after him into this on-call room in the first place. Sure he didn’t have to make a mockery of her diagnosis, but he couldn’t believe she was being so short sighted. He knew she was better than that, she was a great clinician. But she was just so stubborn sometimes, never wanting to take help from him when it was offered. 

He hears a final sigh from her, returning him to the present. He looks into her eyes nervously, waiting to see if she would attack...but to his surprise she doesn’t. Her eyes smoulder as they look up at him, and not with the usual rage he was used to seeing there. Or that scowl that if he was totally honest with himself, turned him on a bit. Okay a lot. But that’s just because he was unaccustomed to women hating him on sight. Even those he slept with once and never called again hated him. But Katniss...well she hated him straight away in medical school when they’d be coupled up for a project, and she refuted every piece of research he tried to bring to the table. From that moment on he’d been as big a dick to her as possible, pointing out her mistakes obnoxiously, earning that telltale scowl or worse. 

He watches her straighten out, and casually remove his slick fingers from her panties. His heart hammers into his chest, waiting for her to react badly, or worse regret what just happened. He doesn’t think he has it in him to argue with her right now, not when he is strung so tightly, desperate for release but too afraid to ask her to touch him. He watches her as she steps fluidly out of her scrub bottoms, and rolls her panties down her tan legs slowly. He can feel his eyes straining as he stares in disbelief, face to face with a part of Katniss he’d never thought he’d see. And it’s glistening. It looks sopping in fact, as he notices a bit of her release is smeared on the inside of her thighs. Who knew that Everdeen was packing such heat between those legs of hers. Sure she was gorgeous, anyone with half a brain cell knew that. But who knew he pretty pussy would be so tight, so warm...the way it throbbed against his fingers....whoever managed to make it inside her was a lucky bastard. He’s instantly jealous that he hasn’t been, and hates anyone that has been. 

As she steps out of her panties, he watches her delicately pull her scrub trousers back up before knotting them back at the waist. She plucks her panties off of the floor, and saunters over to him, invading his space and he nervously swallows waiting for her to start screaming at him. She doesn’t though. In fact, he watches her smile slightly, before she tugs his scrub top up and free from his trousers. Her fingers scratch against the scruff across his abdominal muscles, pulling slightly at the longer hairs curling near his snail trail. Her fingers lower and she pulls on the string to his scrubs slowly, and he feels himself panting little puffs of air that do nothing to calm him down. As the string becomes loose she allows them to fall down to his thighs, but leaves them on. She strokes him gently through his boxers, and he almost shatters as he feels the moisture gathering being rubbed around slowly. His fists clench and release as she pulls, pushers and tugs at him through his underwear. 

The tut sound she makes suddenly causes him to open his eyes, and stare at her unabashed. She drags his boxers down in a sudden movement, and he feels his erection bounce against his stomach. He wants to talk, really he does. Tell her to stop. Tell her to continue...tell her anything really. But the moment is so surreal, he can’t form words. Instead he watches her slim thumb collect a bead of pre cum from the very tip of his cock, before she rubs it between her fingers. He licks his lips, suddenly desperate for water. He watches her face crinkle up in concentration, before she picks up her damp panties and smirks at him. She flips them inside out, and he can see the wetness collected at the centre where she clearly came hard not a few minutes earlier. Where she came with his fingers buried deep inside her, he thinks proudly. 

He strains at the first touch of her panties against him, and moans as he feels her slickness coat him. He moans, and he moans and moans as she twists them around his cock, massaging him firmly and quickly. Although he registers that he’s probably gaping at her like a fish, he doesn’t care. Her panties are warm and wet, and as she pulls him in quicker succession he knows it won’t be long before he comes. As he hold becomes tighter on him, he feels it approaching. Sudden, forceful and hard...so fucking hard. He tries to warn her, honestly he does, but nothing comes out. He just stares at her as his groan becomes louder, and suddenly he erupts. His stomach muscles are pulling at him harshly, as his hand comes down suddenly over hers, holding those wretched, blessed, panties to him tightly as he fills them with his own cum. 

It’s never felt that way before. Ever, he decides. Not even the first time he touched himself as a teen, to the first time he was inside a girl....or any other girl in between. Just the touch of her slim fingers, and the wetness he’d caused inside her panties had made him come harder than anything he’d ever known. 

When he’s able too, he releases the stone grip he has on her hand, and watches as she lets him drop from her and saunters over to the sink. Sure he’d always noticed the way she had a grace to the way she moved, but now it seems even more pronounced. She washes her hands thoroughly, like only someone in healthcare can master, quickly but efficiently, before she turns around and faces him. They don’t speak, just size each other up for a few moments and he tucks himself delicately into his boxers, wincing at how sensitive he is at the moment. She smirks at this, before pushing away from the sink and heading towards the door. 

He calls out to her at the last moment, causing her to hesitate, “Your urm....I mean you forgot your...these” he says lamely, holding the thoroughly sodden scrap of black on his index finger. Her eyebrow raises slowly and he feels his face heat up, “Keep them” she says, before exiting the room. He watches the door for a few seconds, before chuckling to himself. He had no idea she could be so...so..soo...he had no idea at all. Who would’ve known that the ice queen was fire? She was more than fire...hell she was fucking lava at this point! 

He holds the scrap of black closer to his face, and smiles widely. Inhaling the scent of her, and catching the saltier scent of him mixed with her sweetness. Oh he’d keep them alright...he just needs to go about getting a larger collection.


	2. Black Panties ctd...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hate...love...lust - it's all the same. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I'd intended this to be a one-shot....it can't hurt to be a two-shot can it? 
> 
> xo

Running his hands slowly up those silky olive thighs, Peeta takes his time positioning himself on his knees, while dragging her small body across the bed. He feels the slight tremor in her legs, the muscles twitching every now and again as his large pale hands sweep up and down mapping out her skin. They’re beautiful really; soft yet muscular; tanned and warm; and peppered with a few small marks you’d have to be really close to see. In his peripheral he notices that the top cover from the bed has landed on the floor. A lop sided smirk makes its way across his face as he muses for a moment. It’s a good thing really, for what he’s about to do he figures its best there is as little collateral damage as possible. 

His eyes travel up her half naked form, taking in a small scar on her right breast, and a small beauty spot by her neck. His eyes lock onto hers and he sees the molten silver, heated from lust and a little bit of trepidation. If he’s honest with himself he’s a bit nervous too. Those fucking panties have both kept his sanity and driven him insane in the week since she ruined him. He has spent every night, and pretty much every spare moment of the day thinking about it. 

Licking his lips slowly so she can see, he bends at the waist and inhales her sweet musky scent. “My god you smell...” another inhale and shaky breath out “...fuck you smell like heaven”. Rubbing his nose against her thigh he takes his time leaving a warm and wet trail of kisses up to her centre, and watches her squirm a little. He’s delaying time really, but he wants to see her lose it a little before he gives in. That’s part of the attraction to this, watching her give in to him if only for a moment. 

His hands create a path higher, gently smoothing over the skin on her abdomen and feeling the shaky exhales. His finger tips probe past her rib cage, noticing a small black etching on her skin there. If he’s surprised he holds it in, and continues his search higher. The plush-ness of her breasts are like magic to him and he’s surprised by how large they feel to his touch. And her nipples...god. They’re unlike any he’s ever seen, the colour so distinct and unusual. A mix of rose and brown, dusky really as if he’s already taken the time to taste them for hours. He’d have to paint them he decided. Spend hours painting their beauty and committing it to memory. 

He feels her keen towards him as he fingers pluck and play with her, elongated one nipple first to the point of pain and letting go. She’s more responsive to him than he’s used too, and he can’t help the small moans he lets out in appreciation. Letting out a small puff of air, he deliberately breathes out across her damp underwear so she can feel it. Her sudden gasp lets him know he hit the right spot, and he smirks to himself as his hands trail back down her body. He places his lips directly onto her panties and moves his lips slowly, waiting for her to tilt forward and open up herself to him. Her slight movement towards his face at this time feels like bliss, and he wraps his hands around her thighs tighter so she can feel his strength. Bending forward even more, he runs his lips up her panties until he feels the bulge of her clit. Stiffened in her excitement, it makes his mouth water. 

He pulls her towards him even more and worries the skin above her clit through the pants. Her knees suddenly clamp together over his ears, and he slows down his pursuit thinking that the cotton of the panties may feel too rough over her swollen sensitive clit. “Sorry baby” he murmurs, before nudging lower with his nose and feeling the wetness that is seeping through her underwear. He probes a little, smearing the wetness back and forth and inhaling in her sweet sweet scent. Once Peeta feels her legs relax a little, he palms her thighs until her legs spread eagle. Kissing her softly through her underwear, he moves higher until he is back at her sensitive clit and licks earnestly before sucking slowly. He pushes some of his saliva onto her panties as he sucks harder; giving the panties much needed moisture in that area. He draws her into his mouth, and pulses against her clit with her tongue. As he feels her beginning to crest towards orgasm, the tell tale pulsing distracting him momentarily, he pulls away. 

Her look of indignation makes him chuckle a little, and he places his large palm across her abdomen to keep her in place. “I need more” he whispers, before one of his hands cradles her cheeks, and drags her body away from the bed. To make it more interesting, he grabs her panties in the back, wrapping them around his fist, pulling tightly so they create friction in the front. Tugging up and down a few times he creates a rhythm earning long drawn out moans from her mouth. Minutes later when she begins to touch her breasts herself, and her small hips are thrusting into the movement of the panties, Peeta abruptly lets go. 

Readying himself for her upset, his hands reach out to stop her from hitting him. He keeps both of her wrists in the one hand, as he stretches out along her body so she can feel the weight of him. Her hardened nipples rub against his chest, and her thighs part instinctively to allow him to settle in between. He makes a small experimental thrust against her core, damning himself when he groans against the soft, wet, warm feel of her over her panties. Although he wants nothing more than to rid them both of their underwear, and slide in one smooth stroke to the hilt, there is one thing he hasn’t managed to do in either encounter. Something that he’s thought about for some time, well before he knew what sounds she makes as she comes. 

Still holding onto her wrists tightly, Peeta reaches out his other hand and drags her knuckles across the soft skin of her face. Her perfect plump lips round out in the shape of an ‘O’, and he watches her closely for any sign of rejection. He waits for a few moments, watching confusion cloud her eyes a little and her lips clamp shut. He can’t risk her backing out now, and thrusts his hips into hers a few times to remind her where this is headed. As her lips open up again he bends down to slowly lick across the bottom. Although he feels her start, he doesn’t stop his exploration. He cups the back of her head and brings her forward as he tugs her into a kiss. 

It’s like an explosion at that point, as she fights against him to free her hands. Eventually he concedes and let’s go, only to find that they quickly bury themselves into his hair. Her hold is as tight as his own, and the move together in the kiss like a well choreographed dance. Her lips taste like he’s always imagined, like the first sip of water falling from a waterfall. Fresh. Exciting. Like Spring time. The kiss quickly becomes heated, and they challenge; complement; chase; and coax each other for an insurmountable amount of time. His heart hammers against his chest hard; and he’s only slightly mollified when he feels hers doing the same. 

When he finally drags himself away from her with a wet pop, he moves slowly down her body tasting her skin on the way. He pays particular attention to her stiff nipples, and revels when he sees her practically curve away from the bed and into his mouth. Lavishing her body, he continues to move down before he finally is back at the end of the bed. He slowly drags her panties down her legs, enjoying her shyness as he does so. Repositioning himself back at her entrance, he takes his first proper taste of her. Slowly, oh so slowly he drags his thick tongue up her slit and swallows her scent. He repeats the action hearing her soft mewls, before using his fingers to part her and expose her clit. Blowing on it softly he feels her muscles contract, “Shit baby, you’re so wet” he murmurs before attaching his lips and suckling her hard. Her orgasm hits her like an arrow; and she bursts over his tongue coating him in layer after layer of her arousal. He groans as he licks, pets and swallows it all, forever branding himself in her taste. As she comes down from her high, he wipes at his mouth before crawling back up her body at a leisurely pace. Resting his weight back on her, he curls her leg around his hips opening her core to him. As he prepares to sink into her, he hears her moan his name “Peeta.....” 

“Peeta...”

“Peeeta!”

Shaking his head Peeta tries to quickly orientate himself, realising he’s not in bed with Katniss, but at the bakery with his brother Rye. “You spaced out there little brother. Is that ice queen giving you grief again?” Rye says as he wipes down the counter in large sweeps, before chucking the cloth down and smirking at Peeta. 

“Just say the word little bro, you know I’ll warm her up. Take one for the team and all” he says cockily, eyebrows shuffling comically. 

Peeta feels a swift pang of jealously, and brings his hand into his front pocket to rub against the soft material that is hidden from view. The same material he’s been carrying with him, and coveting all week since their encounter. He hooks his fingers and rubs softly, before smirking right back at his brother. 

“Nah it’s cool Rye. I’m sure I’ll find a way to get her to warm up to me”.


	3. Black Panties ctd...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested, I've made a final chapter for this supposed one-shot. Really sorry that I clearly don't know the meaning of one-shot, but hope that you lovely guys appreciate it all the same. 
> 
> It's a bit longer in recognition of it being a finale of sorts - and I hope you guys like it xo

It’d been 10 days. 10 whole days since he had seen her. 10 whole days since he knew what it felt like to touch her skin; to feel her heat; to be inside of her...well at least his hands knew what it felt like. He’d never so much as been granted a few days reprieve of her since they started at the hospital, and now he couldn’t find hide nor hair of her anywhere. The one message he’d sent had remained unanswered and unseen, and getting that number had cost him dearly with the nurses, he daren’t ask for her off duty rota.  
So here he stood on day eleven, feeling slightly insane for hanging around the locker room again after his shift to see if she’d make an appearance. He stalls by changing slowly, packing slowly, and trying his best not to feel so disheartened. Shucking his bag pack onto his shoulder, he decides to take a trip to the gym in an attempt to work out some of the frustration he’s been feeling. Lord knows he needed an outlet, and his own hand just wasn’t cutting it, not when he knew what it felt like to be stroked by hers. 

Not bothering to drive all to the way to his normal gym, he decides to pop down the street to the one close by the hospital. He deliberately chose to go to one further away, so that he didn’t have to bump into conquests that hadn’t taken the brush off too well. It’s smaller he notices as he pays at the reception, and deposits his bag pack in a locker. Walking out onto the floor he notices that it’s virtually empty, but notices that Hawthorne and Cato from the trauma team are there. As he’s about to call out and say hello, he picks up that it’s Everdeen they’re talking about. Picking up some weights, he starts doing curls, determined to overhear most of the conversation. 

“Yeah man, did you see how hot she looked in pre-assess today? I swear she puts on those tight little scrubs just to get a reaction” 

“Pfffft reaction, from who, you? She wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire Cato”

“Like you’d have any more luck?! What was it she told you today, oh yeah, run along forest gump hahaha”

“Hey man, she likes me. I’m telling you”

“Suuuure, and how long you been trying to pick her up for? A year, two?! Face it the ice queen isn’t looking to be the next Mrs Hawthorne”

“What like she wants to be anywhere near you blondie? The other week when you offered to assist her in surgery, she told you that she needed competent staff ahaha”

“One time I cut a vessel and she’ll never let me forget it man”

“Aww quit your pouting. So who you taking to the children’s gala this weekend, and don’t try and ask Everdeen again. It didn’t turn out so well for you last time bud”

“Urgh don’t remind me. I dunno, maybe that hot nurse from Resuss – what was her name again. Clove?”

“Dude, she’s scary”

“Yeah, scarily hot haha” 

Peeta phases out their chatter after this, remembering that both he and Katniss had agreed to go to the gala this year, being in their penultimate year of rotations. He’s never so much as seen her in a dress throughout their college years, and she rarely shows up to parties unless she is forced too. Smirking at this, he throws himself into his workout as he considers what he’s going to wear, and how on earth he’s going to get her alone. 

********************************************************************

Entering the gala, Peeta is pleasantly surprised by the beautiful atmosphere. Everything looks golden and bright, and the guests appear to be behaving themselves for once. Well it is early he thinks, throwing a wave here and there to clusters of people he recognises from the hospital. He finds himself in a partial head lock by Hawthorne shortly after, and forcibly walked over to a table filled with ladies, who clearly appreciate his tux. Although he does throw them a smile, and acts polite, they certainly don’t leave a lasting impression on him. Not when his mind is consumed with someone else. 

It’s close to 10pm when Peeta finally gets a break from the incessant chatter of the table, and he can finally relax now that the handsy females had moved on to other prey. Sure a year ago he’d have been in his element, but somehow he feels annoyed by their attempts at flirting and being coy. He’s missing a scowl and genuine rejection, and his eyes scan the room for the umpteenth time looking for her. As if by magic, his eyes are suddenly drawn to the entrance and the flash of red that enters the room. The dress, if it can be called that, is like a second skin on the owner. It has subtle little jewels that catch the light just so, giving away a shimmer and flicker...almost like a flame. His eyes travel up taking in the swell of the wearer’s hips, and the narrowness of their waist. Perfect breast sit on top of this, the tops of them slightly exposed by the cut of the gown. He tears his eyes up and up until he sees the graceful line of a neck he knows so well, and feels himself stiffen taking in the face that has haunted him for the past 13 nights. There she stands proudly, elegantly, and looking like every wet dream he’s ever had rolled into one. 

She floats into the room, acknowledging people here and there, making a beeline for Abernathy and co at the head table. He watches her then, leaning against the wall, and takes in her general splendour. She can really work a crowd when she wants to he thinks, taking in the toothy smiles she shares as she listens to various conversations. Although she still moves with the fluid like nature he’s used too, he senses something different about her tonight. She seems less subdued, less reserved...less something. It’s probably creepy really that he’s standing back and observing her, but he needs to find the opportune moment. 

When she takes to the stage later on in the evening, he’s shocked as Abernathy leads her up the stairs and announces that she will sing a song in honour of the charity. He sees her settle behind the microphone, with measured confidence, as if she has done this a million times before. He sees her inhale a few breaths before she launches into song, and in an instant he feels like his whole body is aflame. He never knew until this moment that she had the voice of an angel. How he has gone year after year in close contact with her, and never considered what she’d sound like creating a melody so sweet, and so haunting that it would stay with him for years? 

He takes in her performance from afar, watching every crest and fall of her chest as she creates the most beautiful sounds with her voice. From his periphery he notices the crowd is silent watching her, and he stupidly sees Cato and Hawthorne staring at her unabashedly, determined. He feels his anger rise suddenly and has to look away to avoid doing something stupid, like throwing a fist. As his eyes circle back to the stage, her eyes lock onto his, and she flushes. He watches the flush spread across her cheeks, and smirks at her. Despite singing in front of the audience, it’s making eye contact with him that makes her nervous. The sound of applause ruptures their moment, and she hastily looks away. She accepts the applause graciously and tentively makes her way down the steps in her heels. He watches her interact with people, and as usual snub any attempt at conversation or flirting with Hawthorne and Cato. He’d feel sorry for them, if they weren’t hitting on her. 

Some time later, he watches her walk out onto the balcony for fresh air he assumes, and he takes the opportunity to kick off the wall and follow her stealthily before anyone notices. He discreetly locks the door using the golden latches, to make sure that they will have their privacy. He notices the moment she realises that she’s no longer alone, her back stiffens and she turns rapidly to face him, surprise registering on her face. Although he’d made an effort to look good this evening, his tux highlighting his muscular physique, he knows that compared to her, he’s merely ash. That doesn’t mean he’s finished burning for her though, not by a long shot. 

He stalks up to her slowly, giving her the opportunity to back out. When she stands firm, he takes this as a yes and he invades her space. One of his hands reaches out to stroke the silken material at her waist, before he shoves her backwards against the wall and away from the windows. 

“Tell me you want this” he says gruffly, his hand circling her small waist. He feels her dragging in breaths quickly, the exhales pulling his hand inwards. 

“I need you to say it” he commands, hearing her whimper. He continues to look at her, his large hand holding her in place. He waits patiently, for her to make a decision, his breaths becoming as rapid as hers. He almost sighs with relief when she murmurs a soft yes. Immediately he tugs her gown down exposing her breasts, and growls when he notices that her nipples are already hard. His index finger reaches out to stroke down from her plump lips, across her collarbone, before pinching her nipple harshly. As she lets out a little yelp, he forces his other hand in her hair and swoops down to finally taste her lips. 

Nothing could prepare him for the moment they connect, it’s like fire. Pure untamed fire. The kiss is more explosive, more demanding and more real than anything he’s ever felt before. Fuck his dreams about this moment, nothing can even compare to it. The fire spreads through his veins, and burns up his whole being, forcing him to lean his body into hers. As his hips settle into hers, he feels her tremble at the contact. Her small hands bury themselves in his hair, and tug and twist, trying to find purchase, and he swallows her moans as she takes his back in this rhapsody that goes on for an age.

He licks a path down her neck, playing with her nipples and tasting the sweet flesh there. He could spend an eternity tasting her skin he thinks, as he rolls her nipples with his tongue, nipping them here and there to keep them tender. His lips form a suction cup on her nipple, and when she cries out from the sensation, he lets it pop out and blows on it softly. He moves lower to lavish kisses by her rib cage, revelling in the way her small hands tug his hair, pulling his closer to her. 

Pulling her skirt up, he revels in the silky feel of her leg. He kneels down slowly, all the while looking at her so she can see what he is about to do. Despite the cold, he finds her warm and welcoming. But he still needs her to say it. “Do you want this Katniss?” he says staring into her eyes, watching them smoulder back at him. He waits a few beats for her to respond, and is disappointed when she doesn’t say anything. He strokes her thigh, squeezing the soft flesh and thinks about the question he just asked. Is that really what he wants to know? He ponders this while massaging her thigh, getting closer and closer to the place he knows he’ll find hot and wet. Eventually he finds the courage to ask what he really meant too. 

“Do you want me?” he whispers against her heat, maintaining eye contact. Her murmur of a yes sounds like fireworks to him, and for the first time in 13 days he feels like he can breathe properly. Lowering his lips to her lacy back panties he breathes out against her, before inhaling her sweet musky scent. He attaches his lips and sucks her gently through her panties, catching her as she swoons forwards, expelling his name on a gasp. He suckles her, before pushing her panties to one side and licking her long and hard. His hands cup her from behind, and thrust her forward onto his tongue so he can really taste her. His tongue licks; flicks; slides; spears; and circles her. He can’t help the groans he lets out when he tastes her, and feeling her tremor against him, he thinks that she likes when he’s vocal. He makes the sloppiest of noises as he pushes around her wetness, adding a finger or two into the mix as more and more moisture gathers. God she tastes like nothing else. The freshest of bread; or the sweetest or tarts couldn’t compare to the nectar that pours from her and he moans against her lips. When her head slams back against the wall he knows that she is very close, and he ripples his tongue against her walls until she comes long and hard on his face. He takes it all, relishing in the way she tastes and feels on his tongue and only stops when her hands push him away a little, telling him she’s too sensitive now. 

Standing up, he lowers her leg from his shoulder, and wipes his wet face slowly so she can see just how much they both enjoyed that. As he moves up her body, he drags her leg and places it against his hips. He experimentally moves forward a few times so she can feel how hard he is for her. When she whimpers against him and pulls him closer, he knows that this is happening now. Although it’s all wrong, they’re outside of a work function; they’ve never so much as had a proper conversation; and lord knows what this will mean tomorrow - to him it’s just right. 

He aligns himself with her, feeling her short finger nails bite into his shoulders, before one hand makes its way down his tux and tugs at his zipper. She makes rough work of lowering his trousers, and in normal circumstances he’d make a joke at her impatience, but God does he want her right now. As she tugs down his boxers just enough to free him, his cock practically jumps out proudly. The gasp she lets out makes him hesitate, until she tugs him a few times experimentally and smears the wetness at this tip a bit, drawing a long drawn out groan from him. 

He gazes into her eyes as she lines him up with her throbbing core, and he slowly starts to sink in. He watches the emotions play out across her face as he draws back and then in again. He sees pleasure and relief; and a bit of pain mixed in there. He knows he’s thick, been told that a million times by different girls but he’s never once been sorry about it before. But seeing her wince a little as he stretches her, he slows down and rests just inside of her as she gets used to the feel of him. He counts the breaths they both take, before he feels her throb against him and he pushes in just a little more. When he sees her bite her lip, he pulls out a little and shakily edges further into her with each small thrust. When he gets about half way in, he feels her opening up and accepting him and he slides freely all the way in, melting as the sound of them hits the open air. The squelch itself is enough to make him come on the spot, but instead he rasps out a shaky “Fuck” to let her know just how good this feels to him. One of his hands slams against the wall, as he tries to control himself as he gets his first proper feel of liquid heat. It burns him truly....but in the best of ways. It robs him of his breath, and of any coherent thought other than how much he wants this. How much he wants her. How much he needs her. 

So he doesn’t get completely caught up in the moment, his other hand comes around her cheek, turning her face back to his as he desperately swallows air. He needs this connection. As she stares back with pure heat, he begins to thrust into her harder and harder. Her hands grip him tightly and pull him into her, and the slaps of their skin together echo into the night around them. Her molten heat pulls him in, gripping him and accepting him as he slides in and out of her. It’s indescribable the feeling of her. The burn; the way it tugs at him; and how it pulls and pushes. It’s nirvana; it’s heaven – it’s home. 

As much as he wants this to last forever, the feeling of her pulsing all around him causes him to get sloppy and lose his rhythm. He feels his spine stiffen as he struggles to hold on. Sneaking his hand down in between them he makes rapid circles on her swollen clit, causing her to pull him closer with her leg and arms. Her hands tug on his hair as her breathing speeds up, and all of a sudden she snaps throwing her head back in ecstasy. The molten pulsing from inside her hugs him so tight he finally lets go, and empties himself inside of her. Her body milks and milks his, as he spills continuously in her. His blue stares down her grey, as her body massages him through his orgasm. He stares at her open mouthed only just realising that they didn’t bother with protection, but as he watches her pant back at him as she comes down from her own high, he can’t say he’s overly concerned. 

Holding her face gently, he presses kisses over her eye lids, before kissing her softly on the mouth. As he softens, he slips out of her, noticing the slight wince as he does. He presses kisses across her neck and collarbone in apology for her soreness, and gently tugs the top of her dress back up to cover her from the cold of the night. He bends now to pull his trousers back up, and takes his time placing his softened but extremely sensitive cock back inside his pants. 

As he sees her squirm a little on the spot, he does up his belt quickly, before running his hands back up her legs and then slowly pulling her lacy panties down. He throws her a smirk as she stares at him open mouthed, before he gets her to step out of them one leg after the other. As he straightens up, he folds the panties a little before lifting her skirt back up. Her hands reach out to his wrists, and he tuts at her before proceeding to use the panties to mop up their combined juices. Once he is satisfied she is relatively dry, he lets her skirt drop before folding the panties again, before pocketing them. It’s only then that she finally forms a proper sentence, “You making a collection out of my panties Mellark?”

“Oh I hope so baby”.


End file.
